Hidden
by NomNomBabies
Summary: Little bit of secret Mystrade, next time Mycroft is going to lock the door. OneShot


"Lestrade! Now is not the time!"

Mycroft Holmes tried to observe his papers that he held tightly in his hands, hands that were now shaking slightly as a second set of calloused, stronger hands roamed over his tense shoulders and back, circling his tired muscles. The government documents in he held were part of a rather important decision to be made in parliament, and he could not afford distractions at the moment. However, a certain detective inspector was making it rather difficult.

"Not even a little while? That paper doesn't seem that special. I can barely understand it." Greg had begun to nuzzle into Mycroft's neck, sending uncustomary shivers throughout his body. Greg knew how to hit all those spots, his goldfish was awfully good, despite never doing anything like this before meeting the eldest Holmes brother. Greg was still unsure how this whole thing had started, but it had been going on for several months now, secretly of course. And there was nothing he enjoyed more than interrupting Mycroft when he was working.

"Anyone could come in!"

Mycroft felt the inspector sigh into his neck, breathing warm air down his neck and into his shirt, which Greg had managed to statically loosen with his gifted hands. Technically no one would walk in on them unannounced; he was Mycroft Holmes after all. But the document needed reviewing and he needed to reassert his authority over his new toy, who had become far too bold in his advances. He found he was rather enjoying it though.

Mycroft suddenly started out of his chair when he heard footsteps outside his office and hands on the handle. He gripped Lestrade's jacket suddenly and shoved the man unceremoniously under his desk, which was closed in around the front, thank god. Greg's breath rushed out of his lungs and he felt uncharacteristic giggles building in his throat at the absurdity of the situation. The lump of humour in his throat increased as the heart the familiar footsteps of Sherlock striding into the room, after opening the door without knocking, warrantying a huff of annoyance from Mycroft.

"Mycroft, I need to borrow you. Well, technically I need to borrow your key card, the one that works on everything? You haven't visited lately so I couldn't steal it and unfortunately I need it now. I'll say please if it helps?"

Lestrade was holding his breath at this point, knowing Mycroft would be looking furious at both the interruption and his brother's nerve. He was feeling mischievous and stroked the older brother's leg, feeling Mycroft's entire body stiffen. He could go further, but then, Mycroft was his boss. He could get mad.

"Make it quick. Mycroft. Stop stalling or I'll have to just check the drawers beside you, I'm assuming you do want me out. I also prefer less of your company."

Hands suddenly fumbled around the drawers beside Greg's head, grabbing a small plastic card and felt the hands practically throw it across the desk.

"Get. Out. Sherlock. I'll find out what you're doing later, right now I'm busy. Not a word, just go."

The footstep stalked out, and door closed and Greg finally let go, his howls of laughter causing Mycroft to cover the other man's mouth painfully. He rose from beneath the desk and Mycroft's face sent him to his knees, the furious expression that he should have been taking seriously was directed straight at him, and all he could do was laugh, now silently, looking ridiculous as he clutched his sides. He laughed until he couldn't anymore, and when he finally looked up, Mycroft was still staring at him, but had a strange look on his face. Greg rose to his feet and prepared for the worst.

"Umm…do you still need that massage?"

'I want to kill you. Killing you seems so appealing right now. And I know so many ways I could kill you."

Mycroft stepped forward and grabbed Greg's face, holding it a few seconds before kissing him forcefully. The two men clutched at each other faces, hands roaming over now wrinkled suits.

"Next time, I'll lock the door," Mycroft muttered into Greg's mouth and the detective smiled and resumed his massage, among other activities. Mycroft was prepared to install another three locks should Sherlock ever decide to visit unexpectedly again.


End file.
